Her Weekly Rainbow
by rye-the-random
Summary: Rosaline Ginevra Weasley wears yellow on Mondays. Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy pretends not to notice. ScorpiusxRose fluff. For Cuba. T because I'm paranoid, and Rose is a bit suggestive! ONESHOT


**AN:** For Cuba, a fellow Rose/Scorpius shipper.

**DISCLAIMER: **Don't sue me.

* * *

"Hello!" a girl pokes her head into a train compartment, smiling, the gap between her two front teeth very apparent. "Can I sit here?" she is almost annoyingly chipper, Scorpius decides.

"I'm Rosaline," she says, her red curls everywhere. "But you can call me Rose, everyone does." He grunts in reply and stares with a weird fascination at her hair. Somewhere amidst the mass is a thin band of yellow. The attempt to hold back her locks is done in vain. Scorpius almost expects the hair to grow teeth and eyes and to roar at him at any moment.

"I'm Scorpius, by the way." He says, after they manage to scarf down a mountain of chocolate frogs. She just giggles, and he is annoyed by the gap in her teeth.

He hates Mondays.

* * *

Tuesday means potions, and that means seeing her, even though she's in Gryffindor. _Stupid Gryffindors_, he thinks, as he moodily stirs his potion. _Except Rosie, she's really smart. Dad says it's because she got her mum's brains… and her teeth._

"Scorp!" he doesn't even have to turn around to know who's calling him.

He smiles to himself and turns. "Hullo, Rose!" He says, patting the stool beside him so she'll sit down.

She smiles, and he notices the gap in her teeth is still there. People walking into the dungeons titter and whisper at the sight of her. Slytherins and Gryffindors alike glance at her feet and at her hair and Scorpius doesn't have to ask why.

A green hair scarf and neon high tops accentuate her many lime bracelets and large hoop earrings.

"_Green_, Rosie?!" he whispers, mortified as she takes a seat next to him, as Professor Slughorn clears his throat.

* * *

Deep serene blue, he thinks, like Dad's eyes, but warmer, not as ice-like. That's what she is wearing when he sees her on Wednesday, September first. A cashmere sweater and tiny stud earrings. 

Her hair is calmer this year, and at thirteen he's surprised to see she's grown taller than he has.

"Hey Scorp!" she says to him, on the way in from the carriages. She rushes forward and embraces him, and steps away, holding onto his shoulders, looking him up and down.

"Doesn't Malfoy Senior feed you at _all_, Scorp?" her round rosy cheeks dimple as she smiles at his rolling eyes. She knows he hates it when she calls his father that.

He smiles up at her, (_up, _he thinks, _how strange! Up…_) and notices that her eyes are the same color blue of the sea he saw on holiday.

* * *

She arrives on a Thursday, in June. His father greets her coldly- she _is_ a Weasley, after all, but he can't pay attention to his father's rudeness because he is too busy staring at the silver splendor in front of him. 

Yes, silver. Her hair is back in a very messy bun, but back all the same, exposing freckled neck. Her low-cut flowy tank top looks to be made of pure liquid silver and it swishes as she moves. Her bottoms are regular Muggle blue jeans and she's wearing tiny silver circles in her ears, but he cannot take his eyes of her stunning top. She's grinning and asking his mother something. He knows he's staring at her chest (freckles appear sporadically on milky white skin of cleavage) but he can't seem to stop. Rose seems so grown up now- but at least he's finally taller than her, he thinks.

Her thumbs are hooked in the belt loops of her jeans and he can't take his eyes of her swaying hips and she slowly walks down the hallway lined with marble.

* * *

She wears purple on Fridays. He didn't discover this until fifth year after they've been going out for three months. Yes, it really took the daft boy that long. She does not exploit the colour purple, though. It is hard to notice and you have to be looking for it. 

Finally, he finds it, one day after swift removal of clothing, caressing hands and panting breaths next to mops in the small cobwebby place of the nearest broom closet.

"You were _purple_ bras on Fridays, Rose?"

She giggles, her gap still there. He doesn't mind. It's rather interesting when they kiss.

He is still marveling at it when she startles him by poking him in the ribs.

"Oy, Scorp, if you want to stare at my chest, fine, but we were in the middle of kissing!"

He responds by snapping her bra strap, which makes her giggle more.

* * *

She wears black on Saturdays. 

"Black, Rosie. Morbid, much?"

She just giggles and says her socks aren't the only thing she's wearing that's black and if he wants to know what else, he'll have to wait 'till later because she's got prefect duties until seven, as she's a sixth year.

He tells her he though boys were supposed to be the randy and suggestive ones and she smiles and slides her hand into his telling him that it must be her genes, as her mum says this is the way her dad acted when they finally got around to dating.

Then he notices it.

"Your teeth, Rose! They're fixed."

She says yes, did you expect me to keep that horrid gap forever? And he says no, of course not but he misses it and she can tell so to make up for it she kisses him extra long before she has to go patrol the corridors.

Ah, Saturdays.

* * *

When he proposes in seventh year, it is a Sunday, and she is wearing white. 

She cries and says yes of course and he says good I love you and she says I love you too and always will.

He feels it's quite mushy as neither one of them are very romantic.

He suddenly realizes (took him a minute) that she'll be wearing white again, very soon.


End file.
